Disclaimer: don't own DC or anything else.

Another 2 or 3 shot, probably. Been in a writing slump since trimester ended and the book went back into editing.

Chapter 1

Tim found himself standing knee deep in snow, his breath misting before his face. He pulled his cape closer around his body, glad for the full body coverage of the Red Robin suit and the insulation. Maybe Dick was right…. maybe he was insane because what other reason could there be for him taking such a risk? He glanced upward at the alien sky; it glowed a soft green, the constellations unrecognisable. The air was breathable but also had a slight taste to it, so probably not healthy for him long term. His side ached dully, the stitches still there as the near fatal wound continued to heal. And that was why the sky was so eerie, the similarity in colour to the Lazarus Pit.

He'd found the scroll in a storage room at the Cradle, smuggled it to the room he shared with Tam. Thankfully, Pru had stepped in to get them a privacy curtain so he'd been able to read it without anyone knowing. It was a chance…to get Tam home safely and get B back without ending up owing Ra's or under his thumb. The net was tightening around him, he had the data but no way to get it to anyone and no way out, even with Pru willing to help them. After months on the road, Z and Owens deaths…her loyalty had shifted, they'd become real friends. It helped that Pru and Tam got along well, which…actually was probably scary. Pru was even working on Tam's self-defence skills. They'd be okay, no matter what happened to him.

He trudged through the snow and ice, not sure where he was going but knowing better than to just stay still in such a cold environment. Occasionally, he caught glimpses of movement out of the corner of his eye but whenever he looked, there was nothing there. And the dead silence didn't help, there was no noise beyond his own soft breaths, even his footsteps in the snow were silent somehow.

The longer he walked the more his thoughts drifted, becoming muddled, and vaguely he knew that wasn't good. He couldn't feel anything but kept walking numbly. His vision was darkening around the edges when it appeared suddenly before him, a large gate made of blue ice. It creaked open and he stumbled inside, the air no warmer in the large courtyard, but as Tim blinked, his head cleared some. He swallowed at the sight before him, the sprawling castle of black and blue ice but instead of gardens there were endless sculptures of ice…humans and not…their forms twisted, agony obvious despite the blandness of the images that gave them no true defining features. He shuddered in reaction but forced himself onward. He'd read the scroll; he knew what he was getting into.

There seemed to be a soft whisper, telling him to go back, flashes of movement, as if the statues were reaching for him but when he'd look at them there was nothing. It had to be a test of his resolve. He locked his eyes on the massive front door and the stairs leading up to it, ignoring all else as he walked.

He walked up the stairs and raised his hand but the door opened before he could knock. Last chance. But he took a deep breath and stepped inside, walking down the long hall, following a new whisper, one that beckoned him onward.

Tim stepped into the throne room, taking it in. Made of ice and crystal it was…majestic, massive…bright as it reflected the light around the room. It was stunning and then his eyes were drawn to the figure seated upon it. He swallowed as he took in the humanoid form, he, at least it looked and seemed dressed like a man, was taller than any human could ever be. His skin was white pale but tinted blue with white hair floating about his head, revealing pointed ears. The black of his clothing was a stark change from the paleness of his skin, armour and fur covering much of his body. On his head was a crown of icy flames, the hand that supported his chin sported a strange green ring. He was relaxed on the throne, one leg thrown over the other, leaning his chin on a hand whose elbow rested on the arm of the throne. He was watching Tim who finally met his eyes. They glowed a bright green, a similar shade to outside, only to then shine bright blue for a moment. Tim blinked, shaking his head, feeling suddenly dizzy.

Before he realised it, he was kneeling before the throne, staring at the bottom step that led up to it. He didn't remember moving from the doorway. This place…

"Yes," he whispered in answer, though no verbal question had been asked. Yes, he understood the cost for what he was there to ask for. But what was his life in exchange for theirs?

But then understanding filled him, not just his life, his very soul for all eternity. Tim shivered, feeling a flash of fear, but there was no other option.

"Yes, I understand," he agreed.

The figure moved then, a massive hand lowering towards him and Tim watched, unable to move. The hand rested on his head and then a single finger touched the centre of his chest and Tim gasped. It felt like being speared by a sliver of ice, like all of the warmth was sucked from his body, what little he had after his frozen trek.

And then everything went black.

,

"Hey Tim, you're going to be late!"

The voice was muffled and he forced his eyes open, blinking up at a familiar ceiling. His room…Wayne Manor. He pushed himself upright, feeling a stab of cold in his chest, rubbing at the skin. "I'm up!" he called back before realising, Jason? Jason in the Manor?

He got up and stumbled, taking a deep breath, ignoring the cold ache the action caused. He headed into his bathroom, stripping to shower only to freeze in front of the mirror, in the centre of his chest was a small mark, he'd almost missed it, but it hadn't been there before. He touched it, feeling the ice cold it radiated and the memory came back to him, the figure on the throne. His deal… He leapt into the shower, washing as quickly as possible, throwing on clothes…his uniform? And then he was running downstairs.

"Whoa! Where's the fire baby bird?" Dick asked, catching him as he took a corner too quickly.

"Sorry, late!" he called, and Dick laughed.

"No, you're not, Jay's teasing."

Tim stopped and blinked. "What?"

"You've got an hour Timmy, relax. You didn't even glance at a clock, did you?"

Tim groaned and shook his head. He felt so strange, this felt both wrong and right. It felt like Dick should be mad at him but also not.

Dick laughed and reached out to ruffle his hair. "Go eat an actual breakfast, I'll drive you and Dami in today."

"Thanks," he mumbled, heading into the dining room and there…. "B," he choked, and Bruce immediately looked up from his paper.

"Tim is something," he cut off as Tim hugged him, shaking.

,

Jason seemed very pleased with himself as he passed through the dining room and Bruce shook his head, he didn't want to know. He was just happy to have all of his children under the roof and no attempted murder. Yes, things between Tim and Damian were still frosty but there'd been no violence or overly hurtful words since Bruce's near death. If he'd known that would bring the family together…

The door opened, Tim's familiar footsteps and then they stopped suddenly.

"B," Tim's voice was a choked whisper that had Bruce's head snapping up in alarm.

"Tim is something," he didn't get to finish the question as his son slammed into him, holding on tight as the teen shook. Bruce immediately moved, pushing his chair away from the table to draw Tim into a more comfortable hug, hands moving carefully over his body, searching for any injuries. Had he been hurt on patrol last night? "It's alright Sweetheart, I've got you."

A nightmare maybe? He'd had a few since Kon-El's death, with everything that had happened since then it wasn't surprising. But Tim had been sleeping better since his friends returned and Bruce had been allowed off of bed rest. He hated that his injuries and near death had caused his children so much pain.

Dick opened the door and froze at the sight before his face flooded with concern. Bruce motioned and Dick nodded, retreating reluctantly. But Tim hated showing weakness in front of others and this was something he would see as weakness. Bruce was not good at emotions but even he was better than the Drakes had been when it came to children.

"You're okay Tim, everyone is alive and safe," he murmured, gently petting his back to try and calm him. thankfully, Tim slowly settled, slumped in his arms. Had he fallen asleep?

"You're here, but you weren't. You…you were gone," Tim whispered, sounding confused.

Bruce fumbled with his phone one handed, texting Dick to call Tim out sick from school. He tested his forehead but he didn't seem to be running a fever. "I'm right here Tim, I'm not going anywhere," he promised.

Tim coughed and it didn't sound quite right, he felt a little cool actually.

"Back to bed with you kiddo, looks like you've caught something." Bruce stood carefully, cradling Tim to his chest as he carried him upstairs. It wasn't as easy as it used to be, Tim had grown from the scrawny thirteen-year-old he had been. "Get some sleep, if you're not feeling better by tonight, I'll call Leslie," better sage then sorry after all and there'd been some nasty bugs going around this winter.

"Want Kon and Bart back too," Tim whimpered as Bruce helped him change and get back into bed.

"I'll call them," Bruce promised, watching Tim fall into a restless sleep.

"Superboy," he called softly, "Tim's sick and doesn't seem to realise you're alive. Please come by the Manor as soon as you're free and bring Impulse. Though, he's sleeping at the moment."

,

Kon was surprised to hear Bruce call for him, frowning at his words. But he grabbed his phone and called Bart to meet him at Wayne Manor, taking off. He landed in front of the door, making sure no one saw, Bart arriving a few seconds later, looking very dishevelled but he'd been at school. Kon knocked, Alfred opening the door after a few moments.

"Masters Kent and Allen, Master Tim is in his room, sleeping. Would you care for some refreshments?"

"That'd be great," Bart grinned, and Kon nodded, glancing towards Tim's room, seeing him lying on his bed, breathing deep and even but something seemed…off…

"Has Dr Leslie been to see him?" he asked as they entered the kitchen.

"What did you notice?" Bruce asked, stepping into the room.

"I'm not sure but something isn't right," he admitted.

Bruce nodded and left the room, Kon hearing him on the phone a second later.

And Kon left the kitchen, heading up to see Tim. He slipped into the familiar bedroom, checking it quickly but nothing was out of place. "Hey Tim," he murmured, moving to sit on the edge of the bed carefully. Tim's eyes were moving behind closed lids, his lips parted as he breathed. He might be asleep but it didn't seem peaceful. And then he shivered, teeth chattering together, and Kon touched his hand. He was way too cold.

"Tim?" he called in alarm.

He hesitated but then pulled back the covers and got in with Tim, wrapping himself around him. Tim cried out at the sudden heat. Kryptonians ran hot compared to humans, he might not be a full Kryptonian but he was still far warmer than a normal human. Sharing body heat was a way to warm those with hypothermia so hopefully it would help.

"Come on Tim, I need you to wake up," he pleaded. "ALFRED!" he yelled, not sure what else to do.

Bart appeared in the doorway with a stumbling Bruce who quickly straightened and entered.

"Kon?"

"He's like ice," he answered, rubbing his hands over Tim's torse, knowing it was the core that needed warming, extremities were a secondary worry.

Bruce touched Tim and his frown deepened. "He was fine last night. Bart, go to the Cave and get a blood drawing kit, you know how to run it?" he asked, and Bart nodded, vanishing.

Alfred joined them with several hot water bottles and a thermometer. "Ninety-six," he murmured in concern. That was barely above hypothermia levels.

"Leslie's on her way."

Bart was back, carefully taking Tim's arm. Alfred put on the torniquet to help find a good vein. It was hard given Tim's low body temperature, but after a few minutes of applying a hot water bottle to the limb, they got a vein and Bart rushed back to the Cave to run the sample.

"Tim, Sweetheart, I need you to wake up," Bruce called gently but firmly, tapping his cheek.

Tim's head rolled on Kon's shoulder, eyelids fluttering, suggesting he was at least partially conscious. Ever so slowly, hazy blue eyes opened, not quit focusing. Tim swallowed and then his lips parted, Tim whimpering.

"There you are," Bruce was somehow managing to smile at Tim while Kon was glad Tim couldn't see his face, couldn't see his fear. "Tim, were you hit by anything last night?"

"Ngh…"

There was a beep and Alfred straightened. "That is the gate."

"I'll get it," Bruce answered, obviously not wanting to leave Tim's side but Alfred was the better medic and Bruce was faster.

"Hey Tim," Kon murmured.

"K...kkkkkk…." Tim's teeth were chattering hard, too hard to speak, but it seemed to be an attempt to say his name.

He took a deep breath to calm down and hide his fear before shifting them enough that Tim could see him. "Hey Rob," he smiled. "Your own personal heater reporting for duty."

To his relief, Tim moved, though weakly. It took him two tries to grip Kon's shirt, disbelief visible in his eyes.

"His blood's clear!" Bart called as he ran back into the bedroom and Tim made a noise. "Tim?" Bart moved to the bed, and then got in on Tim's other side since Speedsters also ran hot. Tim gasped and then seemed to relax a little.

And then Bruce was back with the doctor. Her concern was obvious as she began checking Tim over. But with no signs of a virus or bacteria in his blood, everything about it was normal, she was stumped.

Tim's lips were going blue, his breathing laboured, and Bart was off again, returning with the portable oxygen. Bart's hand brushed Tim's chest as he was putting on the mask and Tim cried out. Kon ripped Tim's shirt off and there it was for all of them to see, a small mark right in the centre.

"I'm calling Captain Marvel," Bruce announced.

Because that was not a bruise or puncture.

"Bruce…" Leslie hesitated. "You should call the family home."

"What?" he demanded.

"His temperature is still dropping, if Captain Marvel doesn't get here with a cure within an hour…."

No!

Kon and Bart held Tim tight between them, as if they could force his body to take their warmth.

,

Voices…hot…he was drifting, unable to focus. Cold…so cold…the hot wasn't helping. He just wanted to sleep but they kept trying to make him wake.

"Come on Rob, open your eyes."

He knew that voice, it was…lost? Back? A hazy face was in front of him…Bart.

"Hey, you gotta stay with us. We're going to figure this out," he promised.

Bruce…Bart…Kon….it had worked…his lips twitched slightly. His vision cleared a little and he saw them all, his family.

"Wor…ked…" his voice was a vague whisper.

"What worked Timbit?" Jason's voice was softer than he'd ever heard, his hand large and warm.

"S'y…." So cold…

,

"Tim?" Jason called in alarm, squeezing Tim's limp hand.

"No," Kon whispered, holding tightly, rocking Tim. "No!"

"Get him on the bed!" Leslie ordered, and Jason tugged Tim free of the distressed Kon, lying him flat, tipping his head back to clear his airways.

The two of them went to work, providing CPR. Tim's skin was like ice, blue tinged, and Jason just knew that it was hopeless. Forty minutes later, she called time of death. There was nothing more they could do.

,

Bruce paced in front of the Batcomputer, torn. Part of him wanted to be in the medical bay, to be with his son, but there was nothing he could do except get in the way. Billy had called in Zatanna and Constantine and the three of them were examining T…Tim's body. His death had been anything but natural, they needed to know who had done it. And then the bats would deal with them.

,

He blinked dazedly, lifting his head to stare up at the figure on the throne. Slowly, he nodded. Yes. He had seen them; their side of the bargain had been kept. Tim slowly stood, swaying on his feet, his chest hurt and he was cold, so cold. It took longer than it should have for him to recognise the fact he was naked. Of course, clothing was unnecessary.

The massive hand moved, gently patting his head, and then Tim left the throne room, walking out into the courtyard. With every step he felt colder, fingers and toes already blue. He could barely breath around the ice in his chest but still he kept going, the door opening for him. His body was becoming heavy and stiff, joints creaking, vision fading. It hurt! All he knew was the cold and pain, unable to think, to remember. Between one step and another, his body turned to ice like all the others but the pain didn't stop.

,

"Why me?" John muttered, heading out to face the bats. Better than staring at the body of a boy dead too soon, probably. Poor kid.

"Do you know who did it?" Todd demanded, his eyes glowing green, great.

"The kid did," he admitted and they all stiffened, most glaring at him.

"What do you mean?" Bruce growled.

"The kid made a deal, Bruce. Nothing you could have done to save him."

"A deal?" Dick asked, sounding lost.

John shifted, uncomfortable. "His soul for eternity to a Realms being, there's no getting out of that, it's not like demon deal."

"Are you saying some creature is torturing my son for eternity?!"

"Not necessarily. Whichever being he dealt with; it owns him now. That doesn't necessarily mean torture, could just be servitude." But he doubted it, those kinds of deals…

"But why?" Kon-El whispered miserably, sounding lost, Clark holding the boy close.

John glanced back at the others, hesitating. "There was…a shift, magically, during the fight with Darkseid. Our best guess, it was his deal activating which means the results of the battle shifted."

Bruce sank down in the chair. "Tim would trade his lift, his eternity, for us to live," he whispered.

"And to get his friends back, yeah, seems like something he would have done."

"Is there truly nothing that can be done?" Pennyworth asked, resting his hand on Bruce's shoulder.

"A Realms being powerful enough to make such a deal is not something you mess with, Darkseid would be like an ant to them," he explained. He never ever considered messing with them. How the hell had Tim Drake found out about them let alone how to contact one?! What had happened the first time? Had the kid been the last bat standing? Or worse…the last of any of them?

,

He stared out at the statues, eyes locked on one. Everything was set in place, now all he could do was wait and see. Would they pass the test?

TBC…

So you know who it was on the throne, right?